Mouse
by KithriTealeaf
Summary: Refuge; "shelter or protection from danger or distress." Originating from Old French refuge "hiding place", from Latin refugium. This was one among many of the misleading words taught to Lucy during the elocution lessons of her early years. Lucky for Lucy she found a friend in the refuge - but how will she handle life after the strike, after the Refuge? - Found Family Story -
1. Prologue

Refuge; "shelter or protection from danger or distress." Originating from Old French _refuge _"hiding place", from Latin _refugium_. This was one among many of the misleading words taught to Lucy during the elocution lessons of her early years. Before _refuge _there had been _elequition_, _home_, and _illness_. What began as a mere cold quickly became influenza. Lucy's home, once filled with the laughter of her brother and two sisters, became a quiet, desolate place. Friends who had promised to always stay by her, turned their backs without a word. At the end of all this, after _orphanage_, _runaway,_ _urchin, _and _alone_ there was the Refuge.

Lucy was eight when she first came to the Refuge. She had been hungry and broken from weeks living on the streets, and when winter came Lucy knew that she wouldn't last much longer. Stumbling from alley to alley she saw this huge grey building filled with a warm glow that reminded her just how cold she really was. The longer she stared at that glow the more present the bitter cold pain on her fingers and nose became. Then there was the sign, _The Refuge_. It was old and beaten, but the cursive writing was clear enough, and the thought of shelter was too tempting to resist. Oblivious to the warning looks sent from the highest windows, where the warm light didn't quite reach, she knocked.

Snyder had been so polite. Welcoming even. He didn't for a moment hesitate to let Lucy in, even inviting her to chat in his office where a warm fire burned. He asked all sorts of questions about her life, and her family. That was the main thing really. Where was home? Looking back now she could see the split second he realised she was alone and vulnerable. Profitable. Her expensive frock was nothing next to her orphan status. His gaze hardened and his smile dropped quicker than anything. In that moment Lucy saw this quiet and kind face transform into marvel and happiness in a face _so_ contorted with loathing that it felt like her heart might have stopped from the shock. Five minutes later found her in a crowded room with a broken nose and a twisted arm that shot pain to move, and dozens of spindly children that wouldn't look at her from the moment she'd said a word. After all, Lucy's words were too big, and her accent, "too hoi polloi for da rest a' us."

Lucy stayed up the entire night the first couple of days she was there, just trying to mimic the voices of all the people around her. It wasn't long before she was caught by her bunkmates and they kicked at her to stop. The kids of the refuge weren't too open to others. The longer she sat in her corner of her bunk with no one to talk to, the heavier the loneliness became. After a week or so of the pain and loneliness she fell into the same pattern as the rest; she'd sleep until the hunger woke her, then try to fall asleep again. When she really couldn't sleep late at night she'd try again to mimic the accents around her. When she'd first worked up the courage to try again there'd even been a boy there, Crutchie, who caught her practicing that first night and decided then and there to help her. He even helped trying to set her nose. The pain was too much to properly set it, and the boy was really just going for pushing the bone into a straight line, who knew if he was doing it right? However, what he did ultimately helped a lot with the continuous pains, and when she cried at the setting it was partially with happiness to have found a friend. The two of them would stay up until everyone else fell asleep, then he'd teach her a phrase in his accent, and she'd help with his letters in return. She'd speak to him in her newfound accent whenever she could, especially after Snyder had paid his visits. Her attempts always seemed to make Crutchie smile, and his smile could brighten the darkest day. Lucy almost had the confidence to let the others hear her again when Crutchie too went away.

It was six weeks after that that things began to change.


	2. Chapter One

"Hey, get back here!" came the shout of the bulls.

They'd hauled all the kids down to the dock early in the morning, walking almost on parade from the Refuge to the docks between Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan. Most of them had sleeves and buttons torn from the only outfit they owned, all of them had deep set sweat patches and blood stains that had been there for god knows how long. It was a conflict for them all. Being out in broad daylight and feeling the sun was a sensation they had all missed, but the pitying and disgusted looks of New York's finest was a torturous affair. The only people who didn't seem to care were the factory owners, and business reps that came to claim what practically free labourers they could. More bodies to press into another stuffy room to work until their fingers bled, and tossed aside when they'd given all they could. Lucy would not be one of them. She wouldn't let herself be fodder for anyone, no matter what it cost.

Now Lucy was a fast learner, and she knew from her eight weeks in the Refuge how to sneak about, just how fast she needed to run to be relatively safe. She could be quiet as a mouse if she wanted, in fact that's who she was to most of these people she'd spent her weeks cooped up with; she was Mouse. She hadn't said a word to anyone other than Crutchie since their initial reaction to her voice. Though losing her voice to humiliation had caused a growing hollowness in her chest, it kept her safe. Her vocal box was a black hole big enough to hide behind, and growing every day. She'd tried her hardest to blend in to the background, even moving silently on her tiptoes around the room to avoid the unwanted stares. Lucy was quite content to observe them, to learn everything she could to avoid sticking out again. So when they came to the docks and there were more jobs for the Bulls, more distractions, she bolted to the closest alley. Lucy was not exactly fit for anything much anymore. Her whole body ached, she felt physically fragile. A few other kids followed as she ran and she used them as a distraction for the bulls. They ran in every direction out the other end of that alley with the cops following just behind, when she suddenly jumped out of the race up the alley and behind some bins no one really noticed.

She clambered up the closest fire escape then sat and watched them run, some finding their own hiding places or else fighting the Bulls off. Lucy was just trying to keep her breathing as shallow as she could when the shouts and footsteps came too close to her hiding spot. She was almost completely clear, watching the last cop run through, when a voice by her ear made her scream. A hand quickly clamped over her mouth and all she could do was watch in terror as the cop below her stopped and looked around for the source of the noise.

"H-hey, okay, If I lets go you gotta be real quiet, 'kay?"

The voice was soft but strong. She nodded yes and the hand let go. She quickly turned to face a boy with messy blonde hair sticking out from a worn cap, one hand up in peace, the other holding on tight to a slingshot and a rock. He almost looked angry but with a finger to his lips and a jerk of the head she saw that stubborn concentration set on a kind face and the only thing she could do was trust that this boy might just save her. The cop was pacing below, looking behind bins, combing through every nook and cranny. The boy carefully moved around Lucy on the fire escape, smirking now, and took a shot at a metal bin further up the alley. He easily made the shot, and the cop was off in an instant soon as that pang rang out through the alley.

The boy was beaming when he turned back around to Lucy, "Ya see that!? Name's Finch by the way! You's okay?"

Lucy was so caught up in Finch's energy she just nodded along to his excited bobbing. It was a sort of infectious excitement. It was bliss, though it was not enough to stop the pang of fear when the boy started trying to bring Lucy into his mad ramble of a conversation.

"What's ya name? Ya new here? I ain't see you around before."

She said nothing, her mind in turmoil of what voice to use now that the opportunity presented itself. Be herself and be laughed at, or mimick this strange excited boy and let him believe that stranger is who she is?

"Hang on, ya ain't from the refuge are ya? I was jist watching th- hey where ya goin'?!"

Lucy had moved closer to the stairs during Finch's questions. She didn't have to make a decision, she didn't have to take that gamble with this boy or anyone else. People didn't matter anymore, what had they done for her after all? Broken her bones, isolated and embarrassed her. She was on her own now, and this time she was going to be just fine! In her eight weeks of being alone with her thoughts, Lucy had come to a firm conclusion; she could see the end, and yes she was living a muted version of herself, but there was potential inside her. She could feel it pushing around inside, defying her black hole vocals and setting loose fireflies in the dark caverns in her mind. She was too curious about the possibility of, well, herself, to give up trust to anyone. Full of determination Lucy vaulted down the fire escape steps, jumping most of them, and ran away from refuge, from the Bulls, and from the strange boy watching her from that same spot..

Only when Lucy's stomach cramped and she was struggling to keep her breath did she stop. When she did get her breath back again, enough to look around, she saw cafe's, a laundrette, and other independent shops of all kinds. Alleys were there on either end of the street, with big bins and crates to hide behind. Lucy could certainly set herself up here. At least for tonight. Walking along the high street she finally caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the shop windows. Her long auburn hair was knotted and greasy. Worse than that was her dress, covered in mud, ripped at the bottom and flashing her ankles. The sleeves were hanging on by half the threads they should have been. Worst of all were the very visible bruises and cuts all up both arms where she had been grabbed too harshly too many times, and again across her face. Her face didn't look how she remembered it, her nose was ever so slightly crooked and Lucy struggled to see herself behind it all. She didn't even want to think of the injuries her dress actually did manage to hide. It was fortunate that Lucy's dress sleeves fell to her elbows. She frowned at her reflection, self-consciously pulling her sleeves down lower, then turned up her now crooked nose and walked away, furiously blinking back tears. It wasn't worth crying about something as petty as looks now.

The first thing Lucy had to worry about was food. After not eating for so long Lucy knew her stomach had shrunk, she could feel it almost every day she was in the refuge. Small a pit as her stomach had become, she still felt hunger dearly when it came over her. It was like her stomach was trying to eat the rest of her insides. It hurt enough that the stale biscuits or even mouldy bread delivered every couple of days was cause for celebration. At least it would make the pain stop for a while. There was no supplier of biscuits or bread now though. The refuge was bad, but at the very least they didn't actually allow anyone to starve. Snyder definitely cut it close though.

It was just starting to get dark by the time Lucy had set up her makeshift home out of crates and any bits of cardboard and wood she could find to use as a roof between the bins and the wall of the alley closest to Jacobi's; the deli whose scraps she planned on feasting on when they were thrown away later that night.

That was the plan anyway. What was not in the plan was for Lucy to become so caught up in the scent of food, so lost in the pure sensation of flavour. The food may have been scraps, but it was better than anything she had had in months. Jacobi himself found her that way; lost in the meagre scraps of the night. He stood and watched her a minute. The girl was too skinny by half, so dirty and small was she that he had almost missed her. Her bright blue eyes reflected the lights around them though, watery as they were. The child was crying while she scarfed down what food she could.

Jacobi gave a gentle cough and when he did Lucy jumped a mile, letting out a squeak as she did.

"Calm child, I don't mean to frighten you. Come inside now, fresh food is nicer than scraps no?" he smiled.

Lucy felt sick. She had been caught. She tried her hardest to swallow the lump in her throat, only then noticing that she had been crying. Sick and embarrassed Lucy dropped her scraps, looking everywhere for an escape while rubbing furiously at her eyes. He was going to call the cops, she just knew it, then they'd send her to the workhouses and she'd be trapped all over again. Jacobi knelt down in front of her then, placing his hands on Lucy's shoulders. Did he know about the bruises there that blossomed all across her shoulder blades from every hard shove into walls, every night on the hard floor? He was hurting her. Lucy thought he might just be naive to her pain, but then Snyder had seemed friendly at first too. Lucy mustered all of what little strength she had trying to wriggle out of the man's grip, which only resulted in his grip becoming stronger. "Calm down, I am not angry with you child, I'll be more offended if you turn down the food I'm offering you!" She shook her head furiously, lashing out with her fists now trying to get the man to let go. Jacobi turned back to the deli, calling for Jack, whoever that was. Repeatedly looking back and forth between his cafe and the girl, too confused and scared even of how she might react to anything else he could say or do.

She was terrified and trapped all over again, the panic had taken over. Already. Lucy really felt hopeless, she couldn't even stay out of trouble for one day. Two boys came running out to meet Jacobi and the crying girl, who was repeatedly landing weak hits on the overly concerned deli owner.

"Mouse!"

"What's happened?!"

Crutchie was there, hobbling over as fast as he could. Surprisingly fast even, he managed to beat the other boy who was looking, perplexed, between herself and Crutchie. Lucy thought she might have seen this boy once before, but she couldn't place exactly where. The only place could be the refuge, but he hadn't been inside with her and Crutchie. Though if Crutchie was here and trusted these people maybe that meant they were all good people? Lucy was in Crutchie's arms the second he sat down next to her, her body wracked with ugly sobs for the home she'd lost, and for becoming so helpless when she knew she could be strong. She felt the exhaustion in her bones. Lucy wanted to feel real and strong, not fragile as she was. Lucy just wanted to be safe and warm again. That's all she'd wanted when she first started living on the streets. When she first came to the Refuge. She'd finally found it in the arms of the only friendly face she knew. Tricked by the relief of being reunited with her friend, the exhaustion took over and she fell asleep clinging to Crutchie.

"She a friend a yours?" asked Jack, helping Jacobi back up. To say Jack was confused about the whole situation was a severe understatement.

Crutchie nodded solemnly, "Yeah, she helped me write ya letters from the Refuge. She's a good kid Jack, jus' scared I guess."

Jack turned to Jacobi and addressed him for the first time, "I'se guess you jist found her out here and she freaked on ya?"

Jacobi smiled sadly, looking to the food bin and then looking back to Lucy, "I offer her food and she kicks off, maybe my cooking is not so good as I thought?" The chuckle that escaped his lips was forced and defeated. He'd never understand how so many of his city's children ended up as alone and broken as he'd repeatedly seen. Jack squeezed Jacobi's shoulder in understanding, having met the guy in similar circumstances he knew exactly what was going through the old man's head.

"Hey Jack, we's gonna bring her back to the Lodge right? I don't think she'd last too good on her own. Y'know she came to the Refuge thinking it was a good thing? Grew up in a pretty fancy place 'nd apparently Refuge means somethin' pretty good there." Crutchie spat out with a bitter laugh. He pulled himself up, as much as he could with a sleeping child on his lap, and puffed his chest out with an almost smug grin. "Hey Jack- we's could teach her our kinda smarts!"

The sight made Jack grin, "Nothin' phases you, huh kid? She can come home with us but I ain't promisin' she'll be able to take on our kinda street smarts. You eva seen a goil Newsie?"

Crutchie helped move Lucy so that Jack could pick her up, all the while saying "Ise got my suspicions 'bout that Smalls kid. Guy's got an aiwful goily face if ya ask me."

"Ya want I should tell him youse askin'?"

Crutchie held up his hands in defeat just as the rest of the newsies started piling out sent their way by Jacobi. Jack was beyond quick to shut down the half a million questions ready to be launched at them the second the boys clocked on to the tiny mess of a girl in his arms. It was lucky Finch seemed to know the girl too, he was more than happy to distract the boys with the story of their meeting.

"I was a poifect gentleman. Only saved her from the Bulls an' she ran off without a word!" Finch had been getting louder and louder as he got more into his story but Specs was consistent, placing a hand on his shoulder every time he started getting too loud.

Crutchie stuck by Jack and Lucy's side while Finch regaled everyone else with his heroic actions and masterful slingshot skills - only to be half-heartedly rebuked by Race for slacking off. Jack's family was happy and safe, and growing it seemed. He'd have to grill Crutchie for information on this girl, just to be sure of what he should expect from her. Maybe he'd call Ace too… Jack didn't want to admit it, but he wasn't exactly sure how to deal with a girl. Would it be like dealing with any of the other boys when they first came to the Lodge? Would she be okay wearing trousers cause they sure as heck didn't have any spare dresses lying around. The kid, presently, was a mess. Her hair had become matted, and the little skin that wasn't covered couldn't be seen for the blood, dirt, and bruises. What would this frail thing do to earn money? Would she be strong enough to recover, let alone live their life? If Jack knew anything, he knew that Weasel wouldn't let a girl sell papes. The man was too mean and too old fashioned for any of that. Besides, Lucy was pretty - like dainty classical painting pretty. No amount of dirt could hide that. There was no way they could make her look like a guy.

It took a long time for the newsies to calm down and go to bed that night, everyone was too curious and excited to meet this girl that had looked out for Crutchie in the Refuge, and ditched Finch without a word after their run in with the cops. Lucy hadn't stirred since she'd first fallen asleep at Jacobi's though, and it looked like she wouldn't wake anytime soon.

* * *

**_Helloooo, thank you for reading! This is my first story, I hope it's okay. Please do leave reviews, I would love any constructive criticism you may have :)_**


	3. Chapter Two

When Lucy did wake again, it was after all the newsies had fallen asleep. She thought she might have died and gone to heaven; there was a pillow under her head, and she had a blanket all to herself! The lodge beds may have a few broken springs, and the sheets weren't the warmest (or cleanest for that matter) but Lucy couldn't remember being as comfortable as she was just then in that sleepy haze.

She almost rolled over and fell back to sleep, but she was struck with the disturbing thought that she didn't actually have a bed. She didn't have a building of any form to be in. Lucy shot up looking around the room in a complete panic. The room was much bigger and tidier than the Refuge so she couldn't be back there, at least there was that. Where was Crutchie? She was sure she'd been with him just a moment ago. Looking around there were quite a few bunks, all of them with sleeping strangers in. It was… calm? The anxiety was certainly still niggling away, but compared to normal it was calm. Peaceful. Too good to be true. Lucy went to take a step out of bed but almost stood on Crutchie when she did. Crutchie was a good friend, Lucy supposed he'd slept next to her so that there'd at least be a familiar face for her when she did wake.

They hadn't had too long in the refuge together, but days felt like weeks inside and it's not so hard to make strong bonds with those who've already seen and accepted you at your most vulnerable point. The rest of the kids had been there long enough to cut off everyone and everything, or else they were just scared of anyone different. Snyder was really good at sharing his attention. He went after the newbies and the "freaks". If there were any flickers of friendship forming between any of his prisoners he'd make sure to snuff it out. Lucy and Crutchie's time was made that much worse for that very reason, but neither of them had left each other in that lonely place. They'd just gotten better at hiding it.

"Staring at his face ain't gonna wake him up."

It was a curly haired blonde boy on the bunk opposite. He was still lying down, his attention on the cigar he was twirling between his fingers. Lucy jumped, "I-" she slapped a hand over her mouth. What accent? What was right? Why couldn't Crutchie wake up and save her from having to say anything, she had no clue what to do. Still. Lucy didn't want to give up who she was, how she spoke. It was the one thing she had. She was lonely though, and she thought it could be worth it to mimic their strange accents, to show them she could fit in. She wasn't weird, she wasn't too 'hoi polloi', whatever that even meant! But... would she do anything to be safe and warm? Did she want people to look out for her or did she just want to be alone? Alone was safer, but together filled the dark caverns and shrunk the black hole that swallowed her voice, that swallowed her whole.

Lucy had been watching the boy like a hawk, ready to fight or flee. When the blonde boy first came over her eyes grew wide as saucers and she pushed her bruised back into the wall wishing it would swallow her up. The boy held his hands out for her to see, and ever so slowly moved closer until he could rest a hand on top of hers which had been scratching at her throat.

She flinched and meekly batted the boy away, but he had such a certain and calm look in his eyes, "'S okay Mouse I ain't gonna hurt ya." She could see the understanding in his face. She saw herself in the defeated slump of his shoulders, the sad smile and tired eyes that would only meet hers for a moment before flitting away. He covered it quickly with a splitting grin, "Jist don't step on Crutch an' I won' have ta fight ya." And just like that Lucy took her first real breath, resting her skinny hands in those of this stranger.

Crutchie, half awake, mumbled, "Fight ya self Racer, youse is sat right on me." He (unsuccessfully) rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and gave Lucy a bleary wink while attempting to shove Race off the bed. Her laughter was soft and clear, pearly. The only sign right then to give away that there was a sweet girl in there behind her bloodied and muddy exterior.

"Ay would you look at that, Mousey has a voice." Race smirked, Crutchie smiled on proudly, "Course she does, count ya self lucky she's sharin' it with the likes a you, right Mousey?" Crutchie sat up continuing to try and rub the sleep away from his eyes. "Hey Race, youse okay to goes up and git Jack?"

Lucy sucked in a breath, there was her voice, sucked back into the black hole lump in her throat. Race shrugged and tipped his hat, showing a last cocky grin, before walking off to climb out the window onto the fire escape. Crutchie pulled himself up onto the now empty bunk opposite and smiled shyly at Lucy. He looked so uncomfortable and she felt so guilty. He'd slept on the floor because she'd taken his bed. This kind boy had ended up having to look after her. Again. Lucy could feel the lump rising, making her lips quiver and she ducked under her blanket grasping the threadbare material close to her. Lucy felt a gentle prodding in her back.

"Lucy? You okay? Youse don't have ta hide here ya know. No one's gonna hurt ya" Crutchie whispered. "The others are gonna wake up soon, youse can speak ta me youse can speak ta any a them." Oh God. Time to speak. Speaking time. She didn't know what to do. Would he judge her for faking her accent? It sounded funny to her ears, it would probably be obvious and fake to anyone else who heard her. When they heard her voice though, they'd laugh like all the others. She rolled around and peeked an eye out at her friend. "Cat got ya tongue?" Lucy nodded. Crutchie sighed, "Tha's okay too, youse our Mouse after all."

Just then Race came back, followed by another boy. "Mornin', how are ya feelin'? Name's Jack by the way." The boy spat in his hand and offered it out to Lucy. She looked back and forth between Jack and his proffered spit handshake; Crutchie had to demonstrate that the shake was alright before Lucy spat in her own palm and shook back. Jack knelt down next to her bunk, next to Race with Crutchie sitting just to the side giving her a reassuring smile. Jack continued on, "Now Kloppman's gonna come round real soon with the morning bell and I'se pretty sure half the boys are awake anyways, they's probably jist didn't wanna scare ya. That or they's curious and rude but I'se gonna give them the benefit of tha doubt an' assume tha's not it." At this a few of the boys chorused their hello's and waved sheepishly. "So youse wanna get up and git some breakfast with us?"

Lucy had to admit, breakfast did sound good. Now that she thought of food she realised she was starving hungry still. The other boys were starting to get up, and curious they all found a way to wander past or otherwise hang about. The small safe circle made of Crutchie, Jack, and Race, quickly became an overwhelming large group of strangers. She tried to swallow the sudden rush of fear, but all she swallowed was her hunger. That empty space was no longer painful and eager, just hollow. It didn't take long for Lucy to disappear beneath her blanket again.

A knowing look was passed from Crutchie to Jack, and straight away Jack was up telling the boys to move off if they wanted to get some grub from the Sisters before work. Crutchie grabbed onto the bed and lifted himself up to sit beside the bump in the covers that was Lucy. They sat in silence for a while; Crutchie thinking things through, Lucy trying to focus on breathing normally. When the room was clear and quiet again, and Lucy had had time to take it all in, she crawled back out to face Crutchie and offered him a thankful smile.

It took a couple of tries to get her words out, but eventually Lucy whispered to Crutchie, "Th-thank you. Again… I, um, I don't know h-how to..." Her voice was small, soft and lilting, if a little rough from going for so long without a drink of water. "Thank you, Crutchie. I'm sorry, um, I... I messed up. Again."

Crutchie ruffled her hair, "Don't worry about it Mouse, I'se just glad youse okay." The girl was already falling asleep again, leaning against Crutchie's shoulder. Lucy may be almost nine, but she was so small and frail that she looked to be only six or seven. "Sleep well Mouse." He gently moved her to be lying down once more. Crutchie could remember when he first met Lucy at the refuge. Her face hadn't been so shallow, her bones had become much more prominent in the six weeks they were apart. Her dress once a tailored fit now seemed too big despite the fact she must have grown since. He may not know her as well as his brothers, but it hurt to see his friend withering away. Crutchie would put a stop to that, and he was sure Jack would help.

That evening a meeting was held in the Lodgehouse, Crutchie speaking for Lucy without any need to ask if she'd be up to speaking or not, they both knew the answer. Most of the boys thought to make Lucy out to be a boy and have her join them as Newsies, some of them were more taken with their cards than with offering solutions. She herself joined the card game in the corner after a while of observing the three at the table with such determined looks on their faces.

The game they played seemed to involve half the hand being played open on the table, and the other half hidden by the players that owned them. The aim to get rid of all cards, playing the hidden hand before the open hand. Lucy guessed there might be some trick to some of the cards as every time she thought she'd worked out the rules to play an uncommon card would be played and the three would react in triumph or distress, and presently the rules seemed to change.

Lucy was quickly more concerned with working out the secret of this game, trusting whatever decision Crutchie and his friends might come to in their meeting. She determined that whatever the decision, she would adapt as she always had. She hovered a while by the card playing boys, subconsciously moving closer and closer to their circle. She didn't realise how close she'd gotten until the game ended and, with a tip of the dealers newsie cap, she was dealt in to the next round.

The meeting, meanwhile, was not going so well. None of the newsies wanted Lucy to end up as a matchgirl to get her pay. They'd heard stories about what the bosses did to their 'employees', and they were in agreement that no one should have to live that life. At least as newsies they had a little freedom. They weren't in close contact with adults that couldn't be trusted. They couldn't pass her off as a Newsie though; her hair was too long, her eyes were too feminine, and she would never realistically be able to make her voice sound low enough. The newsies were starting to come up empty on ideas and had resorted instead to staring at the ground in bitter concentration.

Cards was quickly becoming Lucy's favourite thing. She had a natural knack for the game once she was certain of the rules. Sure, there had been a couple of times where she messed up starting out, but the boys would make casual comments to each other, and if Jojo used scratching his nose to subtly point out the direction the game was going in had changed, no one said anything. It wasn't the most direct way to learn, but it meant Lucy wasn't forced out of her bubble before she was ready. The boys knew well enough that would only frighten her the way they had in the morning.

The game was all about strategy; just because you had a trick didn't mean you needed to play it and brag about the small hit someone may have taken as a result. That was Romeo's downfall, and his loud cries of defeat started to bring a crowd to their game. The all important meeting was out the window. Jojo, Albert, Henry, and Lucy were down to their last few cards. Albert and Henry were each down to their face ups. A stressful amount of cards had accumulated in the middle, waiting for someone to mess up. Romeo was still crying over the rather large amount of cards he was attempting to sort into his hand. Jojo and Lucy each had two cards left hidden.

You could hear a pin drop in the lodge as everyone waited for Lucy to make her move. Albert had used his three face up cards, and all that was left were the unknown ones that were face down beneath. Race had quietly started taking bets with a nudge and a nod. It was the last leg, and as much as Albert told himself he could work out what card Lucy might play, it was all a game of luck from here on out. If she would only play an eight, let him play a card with less value than the smug Queen of Diamonds looking up at him. Hell, she could clear the monstrous pile of cards with the ten he was pretty sure she had. Lucy took a deep breath in, and with quick confidence lay down an Ace.

The lodge was in uproar as coins were passed and teams started to form behind each player, their supporters smack talking each other. Crutchie was beyond proud, Race was suddenly much richer than before, and Jack had a brilliant idea - he just had to find her.


	4. Chapter Three

After the newsies revolution Katherine found herself much busier with work than before. The New York Sun had her promoted straight away, lest their competitors should be successful in headhunting their star reporter. Of course, she'd still received offers from them, even her father had tried again to get her to write for The World. Whether that was out of respect for her writing, or for greater control over what she might publish in the event that she disagreed with the way he wanted to run his business, was another matter.

However, Katherine liked her place at The Sun. If she entertained the idea of transferring to The World every now and then on the condition that Jack would be treated with respect as their new Illustrator while still being able to look after his newsies… well, she couldn't comment, though her sources told her that Jack was settling in rather nicely.

Katherine was writing up real news now, taking each hard report in her stride. She was blunt about the truth, but empathetic all the while. Her relationship with her father had even improved after the strike was over. Pullitzer saw his own stubborn determination in all she had done, and couldn't help being both proud and annoyed.

Everything truly was turning out quite nicely, it was almost too perfect. Suffice it to say that when Jack turned up to walk her home from work, and couldn't seem to pull himself out of his thoughts or relax his face from its grim expression, she wasn't entirely surprised. When Jack began chewing his nails Katherine rolled her eyes and sighed, "Spit it out Jack."

"What? No I'se jist… I'm forming a plan. I'll get my ideas togetha and then-"

"I thought I already told you; you don't need to have all the answers, just the brains to recognise a good idea when you hear it. What's the scoop Mr Kelly?"

When Katherine was set on a task you could see it. The exact moment she decided to take on a new story, a new mission. Her face could be serious as anything but you could see the switch by the way her eyes lit up with mirth and mischief.

Jack laughed, holding his hands up in surrender, "We's, ah- we's got ourselves a sister."

Katherine was quick to link arms with Jack and dig out every detail she could about the girl her boys called 'Mouse'. How the girl was skin and bones and wouldn't say a word, but they knew she was good and smart because she had looked after Crutchie in the refuge, even helping with his letters to Jack. The poor girl still needed to wash herself of the blood and dirt that was cracked and dry on her skin. If it were any other kid then Jack would've helped them get washed up by now - but Jack knew that frail as she was, she'd need help getting cleaned up. He wasn't about to put any of his family, Lucy included, in that awkward situation. And besides, they still didn't know how she was supposed to start earning enough money for lodging and food.

Jack was coming up blank against each new problem Lucy presented. It wasn't until they arrived outside the Lodge that Jack noticed Katherine had changed their path from her home to his. His face was that of amused admiration as he play acted the gentleman and held the door for the woman he loved. They didn't need to discuss anything further, Jack trusted that Katherine knew what to do.

As soon as Katherine stepped foot in the Lodge she was greeted by a raucous cheer, but Mush was the first to greet her.

"What's on the menu today, Ace? That stew you'se brought last week was just about the best thing I ever ate!"

"Back again Miss Katherine? Ah knew you wouldn' be able to stay away - not from this handsome face." Piped up Romeo, wiggling his eyebrows for all his worth before Jack swatted the back of his head.

It didn't take long before most of the newsies were gathered around. "Alright boys, who would care to explain why it's taken a _whole_ two days for word to reach me that my favourite family's grown? Here I thought you were good at delivering news..." Katherine fixed them all with a pointed look, before she couldn't keep her smile away any longer and pulled the closest of the boys in for a hug. "Gentlemen, care to lead the way?"

When they found Lucy she was beginning to doze off on Crutchie's shoulder. When the card game had ended she looked so upset and lost, Jojo just had to stay and tell her about every card game he knew. Lucy was so enthralled in Jojo's wisdom that she didn't even flinch when he came to sit close just opposite her. Then there was Race, sat on the other side of Crutchie in easy conversation.

While the two of them may not have been participating in Lucy and Jojo's one-sided ramble, they did still note the way her posture ever so slowly relaxed. She was no longer digger her nails into her palm, but slightly fidgeting with her sleeves as she listened in rapt awe to everything Jojo knew about cards, all the strategies she could play with. Once Lucy started stifling yawns Jojo opened the conversation back up to the group so that she wouldn't feel watched and would fall asleep. It was plain to see she needed what rest she could get.

Lucy's eyes felt heavy. She was about to fall asleep when this beautiful woman walked, softly smiling, into her line of sight.

"Hello Mouse, my name is Katherine. It's nice to meet you."

She could hear the smile in the beautiful woman's voice. It was melodic and light, and it made Lucy want to float along with it. In the exhausted fog clouding her mind she saw the twirl of dresses drifting across the ballroom floor in the lilt of Katherine's voice.

"If you keep scratching away like that you'll turn red! Do you think I could run a bath for you instead?"

Lucy heard the woman's smile, and saw her mother laugh and wave at her as her father swooped her up and flew with her across the room in a dance of their own. Lucy let out a small smile of her own, and nodded, still watching her memories play out behind her eyelids.


	5. Chapter Four

Lucy's sleeves were rolled all the way above her elbows. A belt had been made to fix the rolled up trousers to her waist. Lucy had slept well after her bath, and woken up before anyone else. She felt refreshed and ready to face the day. A mop was held firmly in her hands, a cloth tucked into her pockets. The main hallway was going to be sparkling if Lucy had anything to do with it. She gave her sleeves one last push up, sucked in a breath, and with a quiet "CHARGE!" and a run, started to push the mop along the hall with all the might her nimble arms could summon.

By the time Lucy reached the small hole of a room they could call the kitchen; a sink in relative working condition lay buried by dishes in the corner, next to two cupboards used to hold glasses, old newspapers and paper creatures of every kind imaginable. She would have to ask about that at some point. For now, the dishes were waiting.

* * *

The morning bell would never be a welcome sound. Not unless you'd been having dreams that, well they… Jack was alright with it today, even if the bags under his eyes said otherwise. He hadn't finished doing up his waistcoat when he took his first distracted step into the hallway, rushing to get ready and get away, and slipped unceremoniously onto the ground.

"What th'?" he cried out, a crinkle formed in his brow. The entire hallway was sopping wet, but there were little footprints leading to… the… kitchen. Well that can't be good.

Jack made his way as fast as he could down the hallway, hand on the wall for support, to find a mad little Mouse furiously trying to rub blotches off of the one glass that had made it into her grip. She had been spitting out a quiet rant to the blotches, "Why. Won't. You. Come. Off?!" in such a soft lilting voice. Jack couldn't recall the last time he heard such a high voice, it was sort of strange to hear it.

"Mouse?"

"AH!" Lucy just about jumped out of her skin, dropping the glass at the same moment - luckily Jack had quick enough reflexes by now to catch it.

Her eyes were big as saucers, never leaving Jack as he slowly sat to be at her level and began to dry the glass with the towel he'd taken from Lucy without her even realising it.

"Them splotches ain't goin' nowhere, they's been stuck on good for years. Ey but you did a good job! That is one clean glass!" He declared, holding it up proudly as if presenting her with a remarkable gift. When Mouse made no sign of moving Jack gave her a gentle smile and gestured to the kitchen cupboards. Still her eyes followed, though she herself was still as a statue.

Jack set down the now dry glass, and pulled out a little paper dog. Its ears were a bit ripped, and its coat was roughly scrunched, with a twisted tail to boot. Lucy hadn't been able to really work out what it was until Jack had it racing around the space between them, sniffing at her feet and letting out a gentle yap before cocking its head to the side at her and running off again. It was enchanting to watch, and soon Lucy was crouched next to it with a hand out for the dog to sniff at and a tiny smile on her face. Then all of a sudden Jack had given the lively dog over to Lucy, and she had the paper pup doing tricks and running about.

Jack hadn't seen the kid look so relaxed the whole time he'd known her. The two of them had fallen into a comfortable silence watching the paper pup, sat on the floor with their legs in front of them just about reaching the wall on the other side. Ever so quietly Jack reach into the cupboard next to him and pulled out an old pape. He gently tore out a small section and began twisting out a tail and a nose, pinching until two ears popped up. Then there was a paper mouse sniffing about. Then the paper pup and mouse were timidly circling and getting closer, squeaking or ever so quietly yapping respectively. Then they were playing together, exploring stains in the carpet and jumping about in excitement until it all caught up and the two felt too tired to keep on. There on the kitchen floor they fell asleep, mouse and pup curled into each other.

Gently Jack removed the mouse from their cosy clump on the floor, and held it out to Lucy. "See Mouse, you'se don't have ta be loud, you'se just gotta be you. That's all anyone here's gonna ask of ya. Course if ya wanna shout about things that's okay too. We's all different, and maybe people think cause we's a dog, or a mouse, or I think that one's a chicken? Maybe people's think they's don't go togetha but we do. Everyone here is family, even if we's a little weird. Now I know Crutchie's family ta you and th' rest a us you'se don't really know that well. But we'd really like ta be part of you'se and Crutchie's family if you let us? Ya don't have to be tidying the lodge or selling papes, we'll find something even better. Racer he's paid ya first week, made the winnings of your card game mind so really you'se paid it. So what, what d'ya think? I'se look out for you and you'se look out for me. Can we be family?"

Things were happening in Lucy's heart, and she didn't know what but it was warm and safe and she wanted to live in that feeling. Lucy gladly took the paper mouse from Jack and settled it back into its rest with the pup on the floor. She gave him a stern look over before sticking out her hand with a grin.


	6. Chapter Five

Aaaaaa! I'm so sorry for the late update! However lockdown has taught me to hold myself accountable SO from now on I will be uploading a chapter every other week. Probably on Wednesdays.

Also thank you Mistiquecats and the mysterious Chelsea and Guest for your lovely reviews! This is my first time writing a story so it's all a big learning experience for me. You guys warm my heart and help keep me going!

I don't own Newsies, the only character that is mine is the lovely Lucy. She is my child. My fictional, traumatised, child. I love her a lot. Enjoy!

* * *

This was it. The big leagues. Jack had thought of a plan for Lucy to earn money for her stay and she was ready. Now, with Lucy's permission, Crutchie had divulged to Jack the reasons why their Mouse was so quiet. He told Jack about her fancy family, what had happened to them, as well as the mockings she'd received from the other kids in the Refuge before she had a chance to meet anyone kind out in the world.

While it made Jack mad to think that the kids he'd been looking out for had turned against each other, he quickly became too excited about Lucy's voices to think about it.

The kid could speak the way the richies spoke, and the way that the street kids spoke. If she paired up with one of the newsies she could sell to anyone high, or low. They'd have to do it without Weasel's know how, but that was easily doable. The boys would all just have to buy a couple extra, then meet Mouse nearby. They could work out payback later. Honestly, Jack was mad it hadn't occurred to him sooner to just meet up with Lucy _after _buying the papes.

Lucy was going to put on performances that would put the rest of the newsies to shame. Lucy _wanted _to put on performances. She had been pumped and ready as soon as that first streak of light came through the window.

It took a bit of convincing to get Lucy to wait outside while the boys collected their papes. In the end she didn't agree so much as she was begrudgingly distracted by Finch while the rest all bought their papes.

The only thing was this; he would not stop humming. It was a pretty kind of tune, like a lullaby. It was pretty and Lucy felt compelled to hum along, only she couldn't. The thought of her high pitch tones joining his smooth bass reminded her of screeching train whistles over a gentle hubbub. The piercing scream of a teapot left to boil too long. That and she had attempted to join in ever so briefly… only her vocal chords felt scratchy and painful.

Thinking about it, she hadn't properly used her voice in a long time now. Did she need it though? She could speak to herself in her head just fine, she didn't need to hurt herself making noises for other people that made her feel freakish and small. She didn't need to do anything for anyone. Why should she put herself out there for other people when they would not do the same in return?

Finch had sung a little lower when Lucy had initially joined in. He'd been straining to highlight that gentle sound, but she'd stopped singing almost as soon as she'd started. A little disappointed, but more concerned that the poor kid might be mentally beating on herself; Finch turned his hummed tune into an operatic melody, taking Lucy's hand and dramatically twirling her about on the pavement.

The pair received more than a few odd looks. Spinning around in the street without a care for what other people thought. It felt so unbelievably freeing. It felt familiar. Lucy felt a lightness she hadn't known for such a long time. She could almost picture her family's faces. She could see herself dancing on her brother's toes, but when she looked up there was no one there.

Finch had them twirling under each others' arms in unison, both stumbling over every step and loving every minute of it. She burst into a radiant smile, one that showed off her dimples.

Finch sang loud and proud; a nonsense melody, a not-quite waltz. Dizzy from the spinning he tripped over his feet and landed unceremoniously on the floor, laughing, and Mouse laughed too. A quiet giggle which turned to audible chuckling(!) when Finch started snorting between laughs.

They were really getting a lot of looks. Even a few points and whispers. Namely a point and whisper to a man in a blue uniform with a whistle around his neck and a bat in his hand.

Finch calmed down before Lucy. He was sitting in a kind of happy heap hearing her laugh for the first time, noting how she wasn't trying to hide her voice this time. The kid wasn't confident but she was cute, she'd sell her papes no problem.

"Mouse."

It was only just in his peripheral that he saw the Bull start to make his way towards them. The world seemed to slow as he turned to face that angry man. Turned to see his hand tightening on the bat. The bull's face morphing from feigned kindness to show the true determined hostility that lay beneath every one of them that the newsies had ever faced.

"Mouse we's gotta run." he breathed

By now the near silence from Finch had registered with Lucy, and while her smile wasn't gone that unsettling anxiety had begun to creep back in already. The process was only spurred on by the serious look on Finch's face.

"I… I, ah-"

His eyes snapped back to meet Lucy. Stare to stare. How could he forget that they'd been looking for her the first time they met? They could never leave good enough alone, he had to get her out. Away.

"RUN!"

Finch grabbed her arm and started running.

Where to go? The distribution centre was a dead end. Medlock's would be closed this early in the day. Katherine! Where would Katherine be? She could be anywhere! No time to look.

So they had to hide and hope for the best or… shake tail up and down New York. It was a toss of the coin. He was headed for The Lodge, but it wasn't close enough. Who would win that battle of endurance? The rotund cop or the malnourished child?

Finch could hear Lucy's laboured breaths behind him. Her grip on his hand was weak, and there would be no cunning manoeuvres pulled off with Lucy lagging behind. Finch himself wasn't big enough to carry Mouse while running, but he had to do something, but what?!

"'Ey Finch!" Never in his life had he been so grateful for Racer's tardiness. "Thought you'se two was supposed to be waiting outside for Crutchie? He's gonna be pretty mad at you sneakin' off" Despite their full blown pelt towards the oblivious newsboy, that mischievous grin remained solidly in place.

Finch would have smacked Race if there was anytime for it, "Take Mouse, i'll distract 'em! Go! Race GO!" He'd all but shoved the heaving girl into Race before turning back to distract the cop, cradling his newsbag like a child.

There was no time for his reason to catch up with his reaction, to find out what was going on. Muscle memory set in quickly; Race slung an out of breath Lucy onto his back and took flight down the road.

Once they'd made it a few blocks more without being tackled but whatever monster was supposedly chasing them, Race and Lucy came to an alleyway overloaded with crates and shadows.

When Race let her down from his secure piggyback to the open ground, he couldn't help noting the terrified frame of her face. Lucy had had a dull and sunken look as long as he'd known her, but now there was something bright and frantic burning away behind her eyes.

He took one of her small hands and guided her further down the alley. "Y'know they say runnin's the best way ta start the day. Ain't we lucky Mouse?"

Casting a quick look around again he tucked Lucy between a tall set of crates, pulling the nearby tarp over the gap between them. She barely blinked. The only move in her catalogue was a watery wide eyed shuffle.

"So… what we running from Mouse?" She stared unblinking ahead. We must be somewhere old, she thought. The bricks were worn, chunks of stone and cement littered ground. Something smelt damp. Like mould setting in. The crates were rough and splintering on either side of her.

"You don't have ta shout it to the rooftops, but I know there's a squeak in there." Race crouched beside her. He shot looks up and down the alley before settling his gaze back down to his cap in his hands, nervously twisted this way and that.

Her silence had never been a bother before. By all accounts silence was normal for Lucy, but the longer she stayed mute and frozen, the louder the anxiety became. It was a weight in his chest growing each second.

Race studied her once more. "C'mon Mousey. If I know what we're fighting I can raise the odds."

When Lucy had been perhaps six years old, she had discovered a wonderful game. She lived with her parents in quite a grand house. Every room, every item, was lavish. She could remember quite clearly that luxurious life. Her nanny had read her stories about mermaids, and back then she thought it would be so wonderful having a whole ocean to play in. Nothing would be better. When bath time came, she would always duck her head under the water and see how long she could hold her breath. She would open her eyes even though it stung because she thought seeing underwater was just something she had to get used to, if she were to become a mermaid. There was a moment when she first ducked her head under the water that her ears would fill with water and the sound was a quiet roar in her mind.

That dull roar and her stinging eyes had been such little things at the time, but now the feeling was so overwhelming. She thought, for a second, that this must be what it feels like to drown on land.

In his anxiety, Race had started to absentmindedly stroke the fabric of his cap. The tweed outside was rough to the touch, where the inside was smooth as anything. He ran his thumb along that soft material, finding a calm that seemed lost on the petite frightened girl across from him. Looking back to the hat in his hands he realised all the twists were gone, he'd smoothed it all out again.

Across from him Lucy began to cry. She choked and spluttered around the lump in her throat. Her hands furiously swiping at the sudden wave of tears.

He still didn't know what had really happened. Maybe she was afraid to go out. She hadn't exactly been confident around him or the rest of the newsies, it only made sense talking to strangers would scare her too. Or maybe the girl had enemies out there. Thinking about it, Race had only known her a few days and in that time she hadn't said a word. He knew she'd been in the refuge, but everything else about her was a mystery. He wondered where she came from. They all had reasons for not going back home. A lack of money, a lack of love. A lack of a home to go back to. Go. Run. What was she running from?

Race cast another look around the alley. It was busier at the of the alley now. Whatever they were running from, it would be hard pressed to see them through the crowds.

He sniffed and chucked his cap up, snatching it out of the air settle it on the unruly curls of a shocked Lucy.

"It's okay. Let's go home Mousey." He smiled.


	7. Chapter Six

People didn't do this in real life. It wasn't a thing. And yet there they were, two dirt covered children walking down the street looking to all the world like the uptight businessman. Or woman. Or child. Y'know. If they looked close enough, which wasn't actually close at all.

It was Race's idea. He still wasn't really sure what they were running from, so hiding from "them" was going to be that much more difficult. There was a tattered trench coat a bit further up the alley.

He'd taken a walk down Broadway street, years ago now, and at the time there must have been some sort of celebration going on. Outside one of the theatre's were people on stilts, towering above the crowd - they must have been 10 feet high! It was as if a circus tent had been stuffed inside the grand building and try as they might it couldn't be contained. It was a carnival of colour, and it had Race thinking.

They could use that trench coat. Lucy could sit on his shoulders with her hair tucked in his cap, then he'd get her to wrap the trench coat around them and no one would be the wiser! Or they'd think they were going insane, either way they'd leave the two alone.

So out the alley they went; Lucy hunched-over sat on Race's shoulders, whispering which way to go and trying to avoid meeting people's gaze. It was strange really. The change of perspective. From where she sat she could see just above the heads of crowds. She could see the grand architecture, flags and smoke. Through the road gap in the skyline she could see blue. The brightest blue she'd ever seen. It was clean and it was vibrant. She wanted to drink it up then rest on the clouds.

"Pssst. Hey! Mousey, hey! Where we going?"

She gently patted the top of Race's head, letting him know to keep going forward. They didn't have far to go, but they weren't going to risk walking quickly and bumping into someone. If Lucy came tumbling down it would all be for nought.

Lucy had never been up so high. New York was always so crowded, it was a challenge to see anything when you were only three foot off the ground. Or was it more than that now? When had she last been measured?

It had been back when her family were still alive, when school was her biggest worry. Her eldest sister had taught her all about the bow code, and which teachers to watch out for, but Lucy was a worrier by nature. When her mother tied up her plaits with ribbons she fretted for hours that people would read into the innocent bows and make awful presumptions about her.

"Lucy? Lucy Clarke?"

Lucy didn't know David Jacobs especially well. She saw the Jacobs brothers around the school, and Les was only a year above her so on occasion they'd sat close to each other during assemblies. Her elder sister, Jean, had told her a bit about David. She'd said his deep brown eyes could make a person melt, that he was the handsomest boy in class. Lucy had suspected her sister was exaggerating her crush at the time, but somehow the confirmation of her dramatised storytelling wasn't any comfort.

If anything it made her miss Jean's flamboyant nature fiercer than ever.

She was plumb in the lap of another world, everything she should have been was staring in abject rejection at the alien mess she had become. David took a step closer, slowly taking off his hat in a frustrating mix of stunned-false politeness. Race gripped her ankles a little tighter, grounding her as much as a person can be grounded five foot off the ground.

"Hi-hi Dave, um, David."

The stretch of her vocal chords was a rubber band SNAP and the slingshot volley of words were gone. Stuttering and stupid and hers. They were hers. The only thing in the world left to her. The only thing no one could take. She poured ash on the embers of her voice.

These words were hers. This voice was hers. And it didn't really matter how it sounded, it didn't really matter how anyone took it, it was never theirs to take away to begin with.

* * *

**So please don't murder me for every late upload... but if you're reading this you made it! Not a terribly long journey, but it was my first story so this has been a trial in its own way and I am so grateful to you for reading.**

**This story is really for anyone who ever has, or ever does, feel afraid to talk. Speaking to people can be absolutely terrifying. You're not alone in that. The thing I've come to learn though is that being true to yourself, saying the things you wanna say with confidence, you'll find yourself in the company of like minded people rather than surrounded by the people you think you want to be. If you are true to yourself then the rest of your flock will find you. That person that called you boring? Wrong. Incorrect. You're brilliant! If you weren't a passionate person, you wouldn't be reading fanfic. Let me tell you, being passionate is wonderful. The people who disagree are just people. You can't win 'em all. But you have got this. Believe in yourself.**

**Oh also, sidenote. I purposefully have not alluded to which accent Lucy used when she spoke. That is entirely up to you. What choice do you think she made in the end?**


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